Full Plus Extra
A commissioned work
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Your brain felt as though it was floating within your skull as you came to grips with what you were trapped in. Scanning your environment, your heart sank as the realization began to overwhelm your tiny form: you were trapped within the center of a full English breakfast. Trying to wipe off the baked bean sauce from your face, you found that every movement you made forced you to sink further into the mass of ooze. The pounding in your chest began to intensify as the sensation of being completely stuck overtook you. Your sudden nudity forced you to reflexively attempt to cover yourself, only causing the sauce to cover you that much more.
The sickly, sweet scent of the beans was foremost on your mind, as you found yourself surrounded by round boulders larger than your own body. Spitting out the sauce, which you grew sick of quickly, you attempted to splash down, but found yourself to barely make a pathetic plop in the thick goop. Attempting to push one of the beans away, you couldn’t help but find your fingers powerless to press against the soft wall as the bean’s surface just leaked between them.
A sense of utter helplessness washed through you; you almost felt as though you wanted to cry. Tears almost welled up in your eyes, but you held strong. You were just stuck! You could get out! You knew this, but you had no idea how you found yourself in this predicament. As one of the warm beans fell in front of you, a smoky scent reached your nostrils. Bacon. The same scent you experienced as you were blasted by some pink flash walking down the stairs. One second you were traipsing down the steps, the next second you found yourself splashing in the thickest part of this immense breakfast. It has only been a minute or so, but the struggle felt as though it was going on for an eternity.
Attempting to hoist yourself upwards to become more visible, as well as take in your surroundings, you found that whoever made this breakfast did not skip any ingredients. Tomatoes, mushrooms, sausages, a few pieces of black pudding, and two fried eggs were clearly present. A mountainous landscape that would take a true journey to trek through all while being blasted by steaming heat, a confusingly delicious aroma, and an unfortunately sticky texture.
And then what? You heard a “whooshing” sound that you immediately knew was coming from within your own head as you tried, quickly, to formulate some kind of plan. You’d reach the end of the plate and then run! “Run where?” You thought, as you felt your arms sinking into the bean you were hoisted up against. “I can’t even crawl! I’ll never get out of here before --”
An electric chill buzzed down your spine. You were in someone’s breakfast. Someone’s food. You nearly vomited in shock as you realized that you were at risk of being eaten alive. You swallowed. Your tongue felt numb. The whooshing in your head turned into a loud ringing. “Whose - whose plate am I on?” You thought, your heart now beating faster and harder. Looking up and around the room, the walls appeared to blur with distance, but it was instantly familiar. You were in your own kitchen, giving only two options for whose breakfast this could be - your mother’s or your aunt’s.
You couldn’t help but burst in panic. You thrust forward with all your might, literally breaking one of the beans in half, forcing you to sink between the cracks, fully covering you in the light brown sauce, effectively camouflaging you with the surrounding environment. “If I could at least make it to the sausages,” you continued to think, “I could have a more solid surface!”
The lights above appeared so bright as to appear overwhelming. The tinnitus ringing in your head began to pulse into an actual headache. Your world felt as though it was spinning as your heart’s beating became so fast that the beats were seemingly blending into each other. You thought you were making progress through the sea of beans, but in reality you were just thrashing, sinking further into the slop. “This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening!” Your sense of smell was almost numbed-out at this point, your mind unable to take in the strong, appetizing scents of the breakfast that surrounded you.
You craned your neck upwards, hopelessly fantasizing about where to go once you’re free from the food that surrounded you. Everything seemed to be in some sort of haze. What you could focus on seemed to stretch into the sky. A long, white cylinder. A milkshake. An explosion of horror sent another jolt through your body, forcing you to thrash your arms down again. You knew whose plate you were on: Darla’s. Your aunt Darla’s.
Visiting from the next county over, you knew that she was the only one who would have a milkshake with breakfast. You jumped in a quick, startled motion as you heard a thump. Then another. Then another. Footsteps clearly stepping down the stairs. Squinting your sauce-covered eyes, you could see a dark figure walk slowly through the living room, approaching the kitchen. Her fuller figure meant it could be only one person, Aunt Darla.
Her eyes catching the plate, you immediately begin waving your arms, noticing her tired-looking face framed by her mussed, dark black hair cut in a bob. She must have just woken up. As she came closer to the table, you could see her large breasts and round curves lightly bounce with each step. Wearing a black satin bathrobe so loose it looked like it could fall off any second, you could see her boobs looking like they could almost burst from the fabric regardless, stretching the tight fiber to its limit. This led to a long V-shape exposure of skin down the center of her torso almost down to her belly button, where the belt tied the lower half, which ended at the center of her thighs. Never having seen your aunt in such revealing clothing, you understood that she expected you to be out already.
As she walked closer and closer to the plate, you just stared upwards in awe. You’ve never seen something so large move seemingly so quickly. You watch her soft, thick thighs vibrate as she moved closer to the table. Closer to you.
A dark shadow loomed large over you as you froze in complete fear. Your jaw slackened. Your heart now felt as though it were beating in a bowl of ice water. You had no idea what to do. Your mind was just radio static as you watched her sit in the chair before you, her big, round breasts now seeming like a horizontally-facing mountain range hanging precariously before you.
You tried to scream as her face looked down upon the plate, but nothing came out. Her round, chubby cheeks appeared to hang low as she gazed upon the plate of breakfast you found yourself trapped in. Sheer terror now coursing through every cell in your body, your next shout came only with a cough. Waving your hands in the air, you could feel the extra weight of the bean sauce almost holding you down.
A sick, nauseous feeling washed over you as you saw her thick arm reach over and grab a long, towering metal object. The fork.
Time appeared to freeze as you saw her grasp it within her stubby fingers. The tines of death. You knew she couldn’t see you. She couldn’t hear you. You were just part of her breakfast, as far as she was concerned.
A tear dropped from your eye, washing away some of the sauce as you contemplated your own death. Aunt Darla, the very same Aunt Darla you’ve known for your entire life, was going to eat you alive unless you found some way to escape.
Staring upwards at her massive form, still frozen in shock, you could only form guttural sounds, still unable to speak until a strange sound jolted you back to full panic. A low rumbling from straight ahead, just beyond the black, flowing robes. A familiar sound of a stomach’s growling.
Now trying to splash through the thick sauce, you only succeeded in having one of the looming beans fall upon you, pushing you neck-deep into the mixture. A horrifying thud shook you as you heard the fork harshly stab into one of the pieces of bacon that made up a hill in a distant landscape. The twisting of the salted meat over the fork sounded both squishy and loud, a strange contradiction that your brain could barely comprehend.
Hoisting the bean from your head, you watched the swirled piece of bacon haze with distance as your aunt opened her mouth. You could see her cheeks stretch as she gently placed the bacon between her lips and immediately started chewing. The sound of crushing meat swishing in her mouth forced you to feel a sense of bodily horror, a danger that was almost too much for you to bear.
She swallowed. You watched her throat jump as the masticated bits of meat slipped down her throat and into her stomach. The numbness went away, quickly replaced by another state of panic.
Coughing again, you could barely eke out “Aunt Darla… I’m here!” which hurt to force from your throat. The blood was coursing through you so fast it actually hurt to move. It was as if you had already run miles, but you couldn’t even move an inch.
Another stab, this time at a sausage that, to you, looked as though it could be the trunk of a redwood tree or even a skyscraper. Seeing her lift it up effortlessly emphasized the powerlessness you felt.
As you saw her teeth sink into it, her cheeks jiggle slightly as she chewed, and the horrific gulping sound, you tried, with a renewed vigor, to escape the beans you were now trapped in, but the extra motion only forced you to sink deeper and deeper. “No! Not like this! No!” You tried to shout, but your fast breathing made any vocalization incredibly difficult.
“Eugh!” You shouted as you felt the pile of beans you were trapped in shift with sudden motion. Your aunt’s fork was nowhere near your pile. Quickly staring upwards, you saw your own mother lift up a pile of beans before she quickly shoveled it into her mouth with a smirk.
“Hey! That’s mine!” Your aunt shouted, jokingly.
“Well, I made it! I just wanted to see how it came out!” Your mother responded, smiling. “It’s pretty good!”
Another wave of nausea came over you as you realized how close you just came to being eaten.
As you stared at your own mother as she swallowed her mouthful, you were internally relieved that you weren’t part of the mass that was now slipping deeply into her body.
That relief was quickly washed away as you felt a quake from below.
“I haven’t even tried those yet!” Your aunt’s voice squeaked.
Turning around rapidly, you saw a long, metal bridge stretch nearly endlessly from Darla’s hand to the pile of beans you were now trapped in. “Oh, God. Oh God, no!” You shouted as you felt the sensation of ascent grip you by the chest. “Please! See me! No!”
You could tell that you were now on the spoonful heading right for your aunt’s mouth. Everything turned slow as you watched her lips part, exposing the scattered bits of food slathered around the inside of her mouth. Saliva and mucus clung to every inch of the slimy cavern as every tiny detail of her face became incredibly clear to you.
Her slight wrinkles, her lightly bulging skin, her small layer of peach fuzz that covered her face, her plump lips, now wet and glistening with saliva. It all combined to make her seem as though she wasn’t your own aunt, but instead a monster ready to devour you.
Darla’s body heat now began to waft over your naked skin. You could smell her foul morning breath mixed with the salty, smoky scent of the meat she just swallowed. A sense of doom gripped you as you began to understand the gravity of your situation. Her lips now appeared to be the gates of hell as you could now see cords of saliva hang down from the roof of your aunt’s mouth.
You spit out a wad of bean sauce as you shook violently as you passed through the fleshy threshold. Her lips passed. Then her teeth. Then darkness.
Her lips sealed shut. The warmth intensified. You inhaled and all you could smell was your aunt’s vile morning breath.
A vibration signified that the fork was slipping away from under you. You slipped into the mass of beans and couldn’t help but retch as you felt your bare feet come into contact with Darla’s slimy, bumpy tongue.
“AIIIIUUUGGGHHH!” You were finally able to shout as you could feel her saliva touch you before your world quickly turned into a whirlwind.
The beans harshly swirled around you as the tongue undulated, mixing with the bubbly saliva and the crushing sounds of your aunt’s teeth mashing the beans to a pulp. You had no control of your body as you felt your back slide against her hard palate, dragging away a wad of thick mucus a split-second before your front glided against her wiggling, bumpy tongue.
Your aunt’s body heat blasted from all sides as you thrashed. You tried pressing against the now-homogenous mixture, but the current was far too strong. Now tasting your aunt’s breath through her saliva, you couldn’t help but dry heave. Never wanting to be this close to any family member, you tried covering your bare genitals, but failed as you were forced to feel them slide along the side of her tongue. On top of the relentless horror, you felt shamefully aroused through pure touching, knowing that there wasn’t anything you could do to prevent the hot, slimy muscle from coming into contact with you.
Dragging your fingernails along her tongue, you could feel the scum build up beneath you, but you could do nothing to prevent being slid backwards. “Augh!” You shouted, feeling the bubbles build up in front of your face. You squeezed your eyes shut, though this did little given the pitch darkness, as a tight, gripping ring of flesh effortlessly grabbed you, accompanied by a bone-clattering “gluck” sound.
As you were dragged down with the chewed mass, you attempted to pummel the walls, not caring at all how you luckily managed to avoid being crushed between Darla’s molars. You cried, weeping in disgust as you could feel her heartbeat thunder against you, her esophagus now in full control of your tiny body as it made its descent deep into the pudgy woman’s gut.
“MMMF!” You could feel the soft, slick walls caress your naked body as it was pressed harshly into the tube by the chewed bolus of beans. The slick, squelching sounds accompanied your descent followed harshly by a harsh squishing sound as you abruptly stopped.
Chewed, slimy bits of meat slid against your feet as you felt them glide along the inside ring of your aunt’s stomach entrance. You attempted to wiggle, but you found yourself only pressing further into the mass of chewed, bubbly, saliva-laden beans as the wrinkly sphincter slime all over your naked body. You could feel your feet, then ankles, then legs, then torso all have a slick circle of flesh glide over your body.
As it reached your neck, you felt yourself begin to choke. It wrapped around below your jaw like a noose, almost suckling on you as you could feel the beans wash over your body, falling into the hot pit below. Now hanging by your head, you didn’t want to press off the ceiling and fall into the digesting pit of the stomach, but you couldn’t stay stuck like this. “Gck! Ack!” You spit as you could sense the rest of your naked body being held in a putrid, humid chamber filled with inevitably toxic fog. The ring holding your neck there was surprisingly strong despite feeling as soft as her tongue.
Hanging there, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of despair wash over you. You thought you were in a hopeless position caught in the pile of beans, but now that you were being precariously hung above an acidic pit of digesting breakfast, you wished with all your heart you could go back to that position. You thought you didn’t have a plan earlier, but now you had to comprehend true futility.
A freezing cold blast of sweetness overwhelmed your wincing face as you felt yourself drop quickly into a bubbling, foul-smelling ocean of your own aunt’s digesting vomit.
Now finding yourself soaked in puke, you found yourself nearly unable to comprehend the new level of disgust you found yourself experiencing. The chunky, slimy mixture smelled so noxious that you almost vomited yourself on the spot. The terror gripping your chest almost transcended, to the point that you could see flashing lights with every one of your heartbeats despite being in a level of darkness that can only be described as oppressive.
You tried to thrash your arms, but the weight of the mucus was almost too much to bear as the sticky, slimy mixture clung to every inch of your skin. Another plop of chewed food splattered from above, this time a masticated tomato, filling the chamber with the distinct odor before being quickly washed away by the sour, relentless scent of vomit.
Attempting to swim was impossible. You could only go where the current forced you to flow. Each bolus of chewed breakfast that landed caused your aunt’s stomach to churn all that much faster and all that much more forcefully. The fact that you could keep your head above air, breathing in the heavy, toxic, stinging fog was a near-miracle in your mind.
Tasting the toxic soup, it was as if it was a nightmarish breakfast. The flavors were still there, only completely masked by the sourness of her acid. Spitting out a mouthful, the chunky texture sent a chill down your spine. It was experiencing your own aunt in a way that you never thought was possible. You never wanted to feel her body heat like this, you never wanted to smell her chewed breakfast, and you absolutely never wanted to taste her vomit.
Another chewed mass landed, forcing you to feel the current force you upward. Smearing the disgusting mixture from your face, you only succeeded in spreading it around, feeling the wiry, disgusting cords connect your hand to your forehead. Each breath you took caused your nostrils to burn a little more. Noticing this, you wiped the goo from your eyes, now sensing a stinging at your eyes. You knew it was starting. Your aunt was beginning to digest you.
Now feeling the reality that your slimy coating was beginning to eat away at you, the fear of death suddenly gripped you. Your once-voluntary actions have now turned completely involuntary. Your mind was giving up, but your body now wanted to live. You thrust yourself forward in a panicked frenzy, the back of your brain thinking that she might know something was off if she could just feel you. Attempting to swim, the mixture you were trapped in wasn’t forgiving enough to give you enough leverage to move. As another plop landed in the dark chamber, the whole sea appeared to flow upwards with a tremendous, powerful churn. You could feel yourself launch forward as a smooth, undulating surface came into contact with the front of your body.
Now sliding along the wall of your aunt’s stomach, you felt the agony of your eyes now beginning to burn. You pounded against the walls in desperation to only be met with another chewed wad of food land behind you, causing the wrinkly wall to ripple in response. The heat was relentless, making the stinging that now covered your whole body all that much more intense.
Slipping downwards, you tried desperately to climb up the sheer walls, but the mucus simply dragged you down, making everything heavy. Your panic began to split, with hopelessness flooding into the cracks. Your arms weren’t thrashing as much. You were deeply scared by the deep realization that without this thrashing, you had nothing. There was no plan after that other than accepting your death. You tried lashing out again, dragging your nails into the walls of your aunt’s stomach, but to absolutely no response.
At this point, you could feel the wrinkles begin to stretch as the immense stomach around you began to fill. The sound of splattering milk shake echoed through the chamber as you felt yourself in the muck up to your neck. Desperately trying to keep your head above the fluid, you could sense the slime between your toes begin to burn as well. There was no surface your feet could grip on to. The depth was now astronomical and incalculable to your tiny body. You were just an ant in a tremendous puddle.
You spit out another full mouthful of puke as you put your hands up, literally feeling the ceiling of your aunt’s stomach. The slimy drippings of mucus falling from the top would land right on your head, continuing to force you to taste the salty snot that you could not free yourself from.
“P’too!” You spit out the mucus, but another wad flowed right in. Your legs were now beginning to become exhausted. Every inch of your body now burned. Your muscles burned. Your mind was now completely spinning. This is it. This is all there is.
Your face now constantly rubbing up against the top of her stomach, you felt yourself extremely close to her stomach entrance yet again. The flesh stretching with each mass of sood spluttering into the chamber, you tried to reach for the hole in a vain attempt to find a way out, but the constant swimming in the thick goo made every movement a burning struggle, as if you were lifting heavy boxes for hours. You reached for the wrinkly hole, but you could only feel the ring spread as it let another chewed, saliva-laden glob of warm, chewed breakfast.
Now burning with each movement you made, you tried to stay afloat, but the consistent slapping of the fleshy ceiling coupled with the deepening of the hot, stinging sea below made that a near-impossibility. You could only find one air pocket you could breathe from once every few seconds, horrified with the knowledge that it was going to disappear any moment.
You’d submerge for several seconds before emerging and inhaling the hot, humid air before submerging again. This pattern grew quickly exhausting, especially as you tried to rise to the air bubble, finding nothing, only the slick, fleshy surface of your aunt’s stomach.
Now with nowhere to find air, you couldn’t help but just grow limp and sink in the hot darkness. Her puke, disgustingly warm, almost cradled you with its thickness. You used your final moments to reflect on where you were: behind your aunt’s breasts, stuck in her stomach, eaten with her breakfast. The same aunt who you’d hug every time you saw her. She’d give you a nice present or two every Christmas. She enjoyed partying. And, obviously, huge meals.
This same aunt’s stomach contents were now filling your lungs as you reflexively took a breath, having run out of air for several minutes. Now in agony both internally and externally, you were relieved at the final mercy in the numbness before death.
Your corpse now flowing lower, your aunt gulped the final bits of milkshake as she admired her clean plate. After she tried to let out a quick belch, she realized that she didn’t feel gassy, she just felt completely full.
After licking her lips, Darla rubbed her round, pudgy stomach below her satin robe. “You make the best full breakfasts. Not even the best restaurants come close.”
Your mother smiled. “It’s because I add a little extra love!”